The Bridge (A Bad Batch Short Story) *COMPLETE*

Hunter's gaze lingered tentatively at the young woman just a few footfalls away. Her hands precariously folded another set of blacks into her duffle at the edge of her bed.

"You packed the field medkit?" he asked.

It didn't matter. Any excuse just to hear her respond again. He wanted to memorize the cadence of her voice and catalog it in detail like the final entry in a mission log.

"It was the first thing I packed," she answered without looking up. "Echo triple-checked it."

Hunter smiled faintly, then softened. "Of course he did."

Omega crouched down and pulled Wrecker's Lula out from beneath her bunk, nestling the worn, little tooka doll in her hands. Its once-vibrant fabric had dulled with age, seams lovingly restitched. She held it against her chest for a moment, as if drawing strength from the lopsided toy.

Hunter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching with a crooked grin. "I'm still shocked he's letting you take that ratty-looking thing with you."

Omega's smile grew, her eyes still fixed on its buttoned face. "He said I'd earned it." She glanced up. "He said she belongs with the bravest of the Batch."

Hunter chuckled, "Did he now?"

"He tried not to cry when he said it," Omega added with a glint in her eye, "I knew he couldn't make it two words in without turning into a puddle."

Hunter's lip twitched, his own waterline betraying him. He pushed the emotion down. Not now.

"Well, if you need anything, 'Megs..." His voice faltered into something much smaller and fragile than intended. "You know where to find me."

Omega turned to face her brother, a feeble grin playing on the corner of her thin lower lip. The strength in Hunter's prematurely aged knees weakened for only a second at the sight of her. For a moment, he could almost see her the way he used to...his baby sister, his kid. But the illusion was gone just as fast as it came.

She stood before him now, not a child, but a woman carved out by the same galaxy that had weathered him. Still beautiful. Still unmistakably Omega. But in the soft glow of the island's evening, he saw it-the quiet etchings of age beginning to settle, the faint lines near her eyes, a single crease in her brow.

And yet, beneath it all, she remained untouched. She was a genetic anomaly. Designed differently. Built to endure.

She was always meant to be small...but she'd grown in ways the Kaminoans could have never predicted.

He swallowed.

"Yes, Sargent." She voiced prominently, breaking through the reverence.

Hunter gave a subtle salute, "Proceed, soldier."

Tech had overheard the tail end of their exchange and without fully meaning to do so, his long legs moved ahead of his intent. His footsteps were soft and uncertain, echoing lightly down the corridor as he sauntered toward them, his posture tight with hesitance.

By the time he reached the bend, Hunter had already turned to leave, his back to the doorway. He paused just for only a moment, his heightened senses always ten steps in front. He felt a shift in the air and the familiarity of a presence he knew all too well before he even had time to look.

He motioned a nod of approval before cupping a strong, callused hand over the curvature of Tech's shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. Tech stiffened only slightly at the sudden contact, more out of reflex than shear resistance.

Hunter passed him by soundlessly, leaving the man alone in the dimly lit hallway. Tech's feet pushed him onward and over to the cracked open door.

"Omega." His voice came out strong.